A Murderous Type Of Enigma
by AnArchiveOfGeek
Summary: When the streets of New York are terrorized by a serial murderer, the citizens lay their last hopes on Detective Alfred F. Jones and his new partner, Ivan Braginvinski. Ivan is engaged to reporter Yao Wang, while Alfred is stuck on an old flame he put out. Will these two rivals solve the truth together, or will their bad bromance fail all together? UsUk and RoChu with side pairings
1. Chapter 1

Hi All! This is a detective mystery story with the main pairing as USUK. Side Pairings include RoChu, PruHun, Fruk, GerIta, SpaMano, FraNada, LietPol, AusSwitz, BelStein, DenNor, Sufin, and RoBul.

How had it all come to this? I'm Alfred F. Jones, jock who had it all and then grew out of his letterman jacket. I really was king of the world back then, hell, every boy in the school wanted to be me and every chick wanted to date me. Yet, none of that would ever compare to my one and only, Arthur Kirkland. Arthur was the head of student council and the brain too. Not even to mention getting straight A's, constantly taking over and winning every academic meet, blasting all opponents away in spelling bees (all of which, so far, I could never and still could ever do), being amazing in the legs (soccer, ya freakin perverts), and being the most tsundere and hard to love person on school grounds. I had never met anyone like him, from the very instant I knew I had to make him mine. Honestly, I was staighter than Lady Liberty, now though, after experiencing those pools of green completely and lovingly gawking at me, I was starting to feel more like Piza.

And like Piza, I had no problem abadoning one side for the other. Me and Arthur didn't get along so well at first, he was scittish and shy, blushing at the silliest thing. He, in a way, seemed to be feeling about the same type or at least amount of emotional turmoil that I was too. When things finally started to heat up though, was when I realized how much pain I would cause him. I had already, and this being at the end of the school year and all, sent out a college application thingy and was trying desperaty to get into Heta University, a prestigous school that for some reason the selfish me wanted to be in. The problematic thing about this was that Arthur and I lived in a small town together, basically only really looking forward to each other if we got stuck. I wanted this College, out in the rich part of New York, New York, I really did, but I wanted Artie too. Soo... we sat down, or rather, I sat him down. He was staring at me, with those hauntingly beautiful eyes, his full attention on myself. All the time we spent together was closer than a few kisses and hugs. We had had sex at least twice in our relationship and I happened to be Artie's first.

Sadly, I can't say the same about me. I wasn't joking abut that whole used to be straighter than Lady Liberty thing. It happened at some stupid teenage rebelion party, and of course the blue coat "yankee doodle do or die" had to be there. Don't worry if I sound harsh to myself, self discipline is mandatory after you hear what happened next. So basically, I laid the cards out on the table in the sweetest maner possible and said these exact words to the person I still dream about today, " Baby, Artie, there's this college I talk about a lot ya know?"

He nods, not completely understanding what is so important about Heta.

" Umm.. Welll... I already decided to go there, and when I asked, they responeded that they would gladly give me a scholarship. I-"

"Alfred, congratulations!"

"Yeah but-"

"No shush, let's go celebrate, how about-"

" Art, that isn't all."

"What else is it love?"

"I'm breaking up with you."

"Wh- Wait what? Why? I Don- "

" Because I can't do this. I just can't. I want to go to college and not have to worry about a long distance relationship or having an affair or something and you finding out."

"An Affair?" 

"Yeah. I think, and i'm only doing this for the both of us, that we should try to meet other people using whatever it is we learned from each other."

"Alfred! I want to be with you though!"

And that's where i'm gonna cut that memory. He cried for what seemed like an eternity on me. He begged me not to go. He told me he loved me, just like all those times from the past.

If I ever wanted a revolution and to break away, this would be exactly it. Kind of Ironic, because Artie is British and i'm American.

"Seriously, the irony of this world is cruel." Arthur said as he continued licking the frosty ice cream cone, talking mildly and not disputively to his new found boyfriend Francis Bonnefoy. Francis loved the striking resemblence vannila ice cream had to-

"Frog? You Hear me at all in there?" Leaning, Arthur tapped the French man on his head three times, just like in those fairy tales.

Francis, still getting to know the petite and somehow feminine in a boyish way Arthur, wasn't nescassariy blind enough to notie the exact three taps. He was used to the other male's magic and fairytale related obsessions. When he first found out, was back when he and Arthur finally started sleeping in the same bed together. Arthur brought a stuffed animal into the room, and, much to Francis' shock, it was a brightly colored unicorn. He laughed a little, but only a little because he could tell it was hurting Arthur. So, deciding to ask about the creature snug towards Arthur's flat chest, was when he finally got the full crazy layout.

Licking his ice cream again, Arthur once more also caught that Frenchie's attention. Francis just simply watched Arthur look everywhere else obviously realizing Francis was to busy eye raping him to respond. The only reason he hasn't knocked his sorry arse out was because he a) was in a public area with children everywhere, and b) he really liked the frog and was absolutely sick of having to beat him over the head with his own hormones. Francis of course was taking any blessings like these he could possibly get, because in his mind Arthur was really not licking ice cream, and, from the looks of this daydream, was really not going to be sitting on a chair in the middle of a park. Rather, or more likely, on Francis' lap in their bedroom. With nothing but torn up women's lacy lingere on. "mmh!" 'What was this, Francis thought, are the noises becoming real?!' "Have I lost my mond like zhis looney toon!?"

"Shut it peppy la pew! Or the only lonney toon ill be is the tazmanion devil right up your arse!"

"Well~ some little lapin is cranky, no? Shall I escort you home?"

"Fine, Frog."

As they both walked off to exit on the trails through the park, they accidently ran into another reminiscing indivual, our main protaganist. Alfred. Arhur saw him first, the immediate realization that this was him, the only person who could ever destroy his empire of arrogance and pride. All the while they both stared at each other. Alfred couldn't help but notice this person Art seemed to be with was a bit too friendly with the brit than Alfred could bear. All he could think was his fingers, running on the inside of his thighs, leaving bruises almost invisible. He thought about his fingers through his wild hair, and all he destruction they could've caused. Turning sharply on his heals, Alfred left the starstruck Arthur and odd male behind. His collick standinng straight, he was stiff as a board in every area. He never thought he would run into his past, always the ignorantly blissful type. No way was he trying to talk. There was no way in hell Artie would listen to him. Probably for the best though. Stopping, in his tracks, another form of realization hit. Was ths probably like his one from before, and only tear them apart more?

If this was a second chance or some new type of redemption, the least e could do would be to give it a shot.

As soon as me and lapin returned to our flat, he was gone. He was in his room, their room more specifically, and blaring the band Pierce The Veil's 'King For A Day', his punkie screamo music filling the complex. Kellin Quin, someone who also was featured in the song to sing along side the main lead of the band. Arthur went through some punk faze at some weird point, and ever since played 'Caraphernelia' on the forth of July. By the same band, but this time featuring Jeremy McKinnon as the screaming vocals. He said it helped match how he felt towards Alfred, and considering the yank's birthday was on the fourth, what bettera time to play something that seemingly photo copyed his own feelings. I never liked that music, but I did enjoy his versions of the songs on the violin. He isn't as dramatic as you're thinking, really, he is more so the type to hide away his emotion. But, because he truly fell for the first time with the Sam, he had an iescapeable fault. And with that came a worsening (or at least to my newly found knowledge from his older friends) in his tsundere-ness.

Almost every day was my beautious face beat in, which was none more fun than the hits below the belt when sex was brought up. Im still despeate to finally get action out of the brit, but it seems heavily unlikely. The first time they even came close Arthur kicked him so hard he felt something inside him brake. He didn't necassarily understand why Arthur was so nervous and petrified of allowing access to his body. Never the less, he was a man of amour and his word. And his word was he would never force love onto another. But with amour, he had to at least try to show the way to the pink and red heart laced capital called affection of the highest degree. So, for starters, I would and still do let Arthur explore as much of myself as he'd like. Usually Arthur would get on top of me when I would be laying down, and would toy with my hair. Letting him soothingly feel out his new life sized experiment, only lately getting braver. After the run in at the park though, I have my doubts he'd be playing teasingly with my belt buckle anymore.

Not like that was his bravest exploration yet, just it was looking rather minimal to the other two that followed after. It seemed only right to make number three the winner for once, and also the barrier to what more he was craving. Ed Sheeran's 'Give Me Love', was playing in Arthur's room now, meaning the worst of the storm was cleared and a smeared up rainbow would eventually walk in to the kitchen hungrey and upset. He would want a hug from me, and I would return it. Carefully, and unused to the affectionate side of Arthur. Arthur first showed his affections to animals and children and women. Women last, because he was still tsundere around them if he liked them enough. I wished for the love he would show the kids at the park, when he would play soccer or tag with them, or when he would pet the neighbors cats and help sneak them in and out of the building because pets were not allowed, or even when he would go straight up to a female trying to juggle her groceries and sooth her crying child. Arthur is an angel, he never seemed or would be heartless, that was not who he was. Not who he would ever even nightmare the brit to be. Sitting down with my wine and the television remote, I looked through the on screen guide to see my options.

Clearly nothing was on or going to be for a long while, which meant the news would have to strut it's stuff till Arthur joined him on the sofa, with secret intentional wishes to snuggle he would never share. Hearing barely what the lady on the screen said, he turned the set up louder. " Now, with the topic of the serial murderer the police of N.Y have been investigating, we have recieved new info on how each victim was killed and exactly what is tying these horrible crimes together, Yao, do you have the story?" The lady was off the screen, Yao Wang, an actual reporter the model/ photographer Francis knew to not be a disgusting, self absorbsed scum. 'Usually I save the critical tongue for lapin, really.' Was alll i could mentally say during the whole cover of the story and it's real, horrific events. There was no way N.Y.P.D would be happy about this one at all. " Hello, aru, I am Yao Wang and tonight another murder has been commited, slit throated and butchered, not even to mention the Star sign of Cancer engraved on the right hand like all the other victims. Here, I have guest detective Alfred Franklin Jones, who has aquired complete control of this case along with his asisstant Ivan Braginvinski.

"Aren't Ivan and Yao engaged?" Francis twisted around to see a red eyed brit, fresh from crying and probably irritated from wiping his tears and such with his sleeve rather than with a normal tissue. Francis smiled gently and patted the space close beside him quickly explaining the lack of opposing entertainment and being stuck with his love's ex and some common aquaintences of their own. Nodding away the explantion and feigning invicibility to all thing vulgar and number four related (even though this station was on channel four, with a secondary cooking channel on fifty that seemed to be somewhat mockingly inviting), Arthur continued to glue his eyes fakely on the screen. It was like ping pong, how Alfred and Yao responded to each other so quickly. The usually chipper American detective had a game face on. One no one would be able to forget completely. Arthur saw that face when Al would play football, but back then he would still have a second to smile brightly a Arthur fro the stands, winning with his eyes of the game regardless.

Arthur smirked, feeling bad for this sad excuse of human meat for the first and only time ever. Alfred smiled at the camera finishing with a "If you think I won't find you, think again." That cool composure but blurringly happy smile sent a chill down Arthur's back. He was smiling at the stands, with more people than ever watching his strategic game of run and capture, and honestly Arthur could feel he was still directing it towards the same messy haired boy who missed him so much. This time around though, that walking hazard in the dark had a new light and life, far from his old small life and into this larger than any scene. He was more content than words to decribe. And with whatever he had left, he jumped up from that chair he saw as his seat amongst the rest, threw up a fist and cheered the bloody twat on. If anyone deserved to win, It was him! Francis, on the other hand, stared at the brit in shock. But he smiled regardless standing up along with him and cheering Detective Jones on as well!

"Yao, you did well today da? I enjoyed your enthusiasm on the report." Don't mind him, thought Alfred. He wouldn't know real reporting if it hit him like a piano! Alfred continued to sulk, hating having to work with his old college arch nemesis, the only omen Alfred ever had to actually worry about. Yao was fine, just he was and should have known better than to put himself smack dab in the center of No man's land. If they had to both describe their relationship, Ivan and Alfred would agree it as cold. If they were nations, like personifications, (bare with us here, Alfred has a wild imagination), they would be Ivan as Russia and Alfred as America, and then it would be a cold war rather than a cold feeling. Alfred actually found it ironic how their relationships with one another seemed so dangerously close to that of their own individual homelands. He guessed it was just nationalism kicking in, and decided to shut his head and mouth up about it before he was forced into some funny farm/ insane asylum.

"Hey Ivan, we have a serial murderer to go stop and be like, heroic and stuff sooo... can ya wind it up a bit?" Honestly. Who does Ivan think I am!? I'm the guy in charge! I'm the hero and he's the sidekick! So what if I don't have a hot Mary Jane/ Gwen/ Lois Lane waiting for me, or anyone at that, I have my job and the people I need to protect! I know for a freaking fact Ivan is serious about this too, considering the killings have been occuring towards petite males or females. Yao fits the profile, and he is a reporter whom is engaged to the guy working with the lead investigator sooo... kind of a triple whammie of a hum dinger. The sudden thought occured to him... what if this guy got a hold of Arthur! Grabbing Ivan by his scarf and forcing him away from Yao, they went off. " Bye Yao! I promise to take good care of your wife during our investigation! Have a great day and stuff!" Alfred yelled back to the Chinese male who seemed dumbfounded at the sight of the American being able to pull away the most powerful man Yao had ever met. Maybe they had more luck in this case then everyone was thinking.

With all hope riding on our two detectives, what will the outcome of his story be? But, This Being only the begining, wo knows. Shall we continue? '8]D J =====DRAGG

Requests for other pairings (cracks or dents are okay) would be justified. ;D


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred let Ivan drive the car. Honestly, It was only cause he himself sucked at driving. He was okay on the country roads where he could swerve and speed to his heart's absolute content, but the city's restrictive ways never did settle properly with him. He was used to running red lights and parking on a shopping cart or two, but this waiting crap got to him the most. Exactly the reason he ran reds in the first place. Snorting and huffing out his anger, Alfred leaned against the window and only finally started to daydream about something other than Art when a certain Commie, ya know my bestie, swerved the vehicle on the opposite direction of their first lead. "Sorry, da, I hate waiting so I decided on a short cut." Smiling, Alfred realized why he couldn't refuse this sidekick in the first place. Even though his motto was "Better Dead Than Red" this guy proved continously he could be equally blue. And what's the American flag without a bit of red anyway? Monitoring Ivan's driving and route choices, he realized Ivan was just as gifted with the back streets as himself, If anything, a bit more. But only a bit, and only with alleyways the size of a toothpick anyway. Removing his glasses, Alfred observed the lens. They had scuffs and scraches galore, all their own battlescar. For some reason, his eye sight never changed, and with that, he never needed a new pair.

"Alfred, you seem to clean those glasses alot, maybe you should think about replacements, after all, there's only so much American's can do before they ruin it beyond repair. Sadly, you are blond as well as American, so I can only imagine the trauma those have experienced in their long life." Of course, ignoring what I said completely, Alfred said/uttered angrily a 'thanks jackass', and returned to his useless efforts towards those destroyed eye assissters. I truly wished to reach over and throw them out the vehicle. But like most things, Ivan had to hold back his anger. He had never experienced such frustration with anyone else except his sister, Natalia. She was to scary to explode on, and Alfred was becoming too much an annoyance to even fight with. So he avoided it as cautiously as Alfred did when at McDonalds, which his doctor forced him to stop eating after he expericenced his first heart attack and realized that he had major health issues developing. He also found that heart problems ran in the family, almost as much the obsession for fattening, artificial foods. Suffering truly since his discovery, Fredka worked towards his health and tried dieting. Actually, Yao and Ivan had to enforce it. They found out he had returned back to devouring junk in minimal 2 to 3 days. He came to work and almost passed out from an extreme amount of pain in his chest. It was a warning sign from death himself, and it made Ivan realize how much of a good friend the idiot actually was.

Not even to mention Yao was there on a random visit that very day, and actually started crying. Ever since, the pair tried to watch Alfred with a close set of eyes, ones that didn't need any assistance from a set of two way mirrors. Stopping the car in front of the house, Alfred bolted out, followed closely but slowly by Ivan. The run down home was their first lead, and Alfred wanted to open that door first, the quicker than anticipated ride making him pumped and feeling absolutely dedicated. Knocking loudly as always with a repetitive and trained motion, the American peered through the peep hole, looking for something incriminating. If a mess equaled murder, which in some cases it does, this would totally be their dude.

"Can you ever not be obnoxious for once in your life Fredka?"

"Communist, did I ask you to critique me?"

"No, da, but your limp gay wrist when you knocked on that door was begging for it."

"Vanya needs his pacifier, no fear, we'll just have Yao pull down his panties!"

"Do I have to-"

"Can I fucking help you?"

Turning their attention towards the door, they saw a man with dark brown hair and sunglasses staring directly at them. His eyes peered through the black material glass. Alfred cleared his throat, " Um we are here to ask you a few questions, and, if you don't mind search around a bit." Alfred was obviously thrown off a bit by how much he and this man looked a like. He really was in shock, so Ivan filled in for the moment. Seriously, he didn't even introduce them. " Sorry da, my comrade is not feeling to well today, he forgot to have his coffee. Or rather he can't have his coffee" Insert America Glare Here "I would like to introduce myself, I am Detective Ivan Braginvinski, and this is the man in charge Detective Alfred F. Jones. As previously stated, we want to ask a few questions and just wander around a bit. " Now that basics are over, hopefully he'll let us in. " Fine. Make it quick though."

Francis watched Arthur closely. He was sitting on the floor and was sewing a sweater of some sort. Francis always liked messing with the brits knitting work, espically when he was so consumed and distracted by it. Arthur suddenly leaned himself on Francis' leg, putting himself cutely in between the gap of both his legs since he was sitting there with them spread. This was rare. Looking at the briton, he began petting his head. There was no way to describe how happy he was truly feeling in this fluffy moment. Almost as suddenly as when he leaned on the frenchmen, Arthur pulled himself onto his lap. Arthur sat there looking at Francis, eventually turning his face towards him so he could stare at him directly and totally. Moving in, Arthur started making out with the stunned frenchie, who kissed back with thousands more control and technique. Francis was now on top of Arthur, putting him pinned on the sofa, watching him like a predator to a prey. Assaulting his pale neck and loving the taste, he swore he could feel the brit buck his waist upwards, and took that as the sign he had been so itchingly waiting for. Moving his hands down lapin's pants, a sudden ringtone burst out, the song Maroon 5's Animals and oddly fitting the moment.


	3. Chapter 3

So Sorry For The LATENESS! I will do two chapters today to mark the new year and my first two followers! You know who you are! Thank you both, complete strangers, for enjoying my talent and love for tongue twisters!

Slight Time Skip

Alfred watched the lights in the club shine off the glimmering bodies. All dancing sexual, all drinking like no tomorrow. There was not much they could get out of the lead, Allen. Wellll.. he did say to check here for a possible suspect, but that was far from enough to satisfy the Russian and American duo. Of course minus the Commie Ivan. He had to return home for dinner and a movie with Yao that he promised. Alfred had always been a good actor, so he pretended not to have a clue what Ivan meant by movie. ' People assume I can't read moods or sometimes I cant read at all thanks to my dumb ass blonde facade!' Alfred never went out clubbing unless Arthur was there with him, which meant fake ID's and seeing A rt in the world's tightest pair of skinny jeans, almost impossible to use the pockets, if that helps support the image. He used to like being rebelious with the brit, he used to love begging for that specific head spinner movement that he never knew anyone Englishmen could do, let alone make so fucking sexy. Everyone else made no comparison. If there was a way, Alfred would abandon this mission and deal with old memories , like any person dedicated to their job, he couldn't leave till the new addition is invstigated.

Ivan relaxed with Yao, the chinese male laying his head on Ivan's shoulder and petting his side. The scarf Ivan wore everywhere cushioning Yao's head to an almost sleepy and peaceful state. He was to much into the movie and the hand moving up his thigh to fall asleep. It was rare they spent time with one another. And, with that, there was no way they would pass up the oppurtunity to fuck like rabbits. Sleep, movie, food, it all could wait. Yao was sick of the delay, so he took action into his own two hands. He grabbed Ivan's scarf and yanked him down. He kissed the other with as much of a force as he could submit, knowing they both worked the bedroom raw. Ivan forced ten times fold, holding back what ever he could maintain so he wouldn't brake him. They would play their game of fight and fuck until there were no more clothes left to shed, and then become one, as everyone's favorite Russian would say.

Time Return

Arthur and Francis where naked, laying on the couch with their clothes scattered everywhere else. Arthur wriggled in pleasure, remembering this feeling only slightly. Damn he missed this, yet didn't remember the feeling being so fragile. Francis was a teddy bear in comarison to the brash and devouring Alfred. This wasn't domination, and in a way, it made Arthur wish he was being fucked by someone else. If it were te jock he saw as his favorite lover, than why was he into small things and actions, like cuddiling and kissing. Al was a bright light to anyone, but to Arthur he would always be protective and defensive. As the sex picked up speed, everything melted away, and Francis could almost here and see Arthur stuck in the past and confused thoughts. There was a twinge of pain in the frenchman's heart, but he knew this wasn't his to barge in on. Letting the emotion go, he focused on the brit literally and finally at hand. There was so much more to this than just an old memory, Alfred F. Jones was burned into Arthur Kirkland's mind, as the same reversed.

When Francis fell asleep, and after their long period of raging hormones, Arthur got up and snuck out with his credit card. He was not going to tell the frog about he fact that a certain American had gotten him hooked on 'after sex McDonalds'. Al would always go and get the food while Arthur waited and rested. He would come back with the only thing the Englishman could tolerate: fries. And, with time and Alfred's massive amounts of obsessive eating secifically there, Art had no choice but to be hooked. Walking down the dark city sidwalk and it's threatening lights shining against his back, he picked up his pace. He was scared, he rarely ever went out alone, let alone in NY at this time of night. Even more of an adrenaline when the footsteps beame evident. There was someone trailing him. As he walked faster the person increased, caught his arm, and slammed the green eyed brit against the darkest alleyways backwall. It happened so quickly, the flick of the wrist, as the knife showed itself. Glimmering in the artificial lights. Arthur watched closely, his eyes huge and terified.

As he felt the first amounts of immense pain, he realized this was happening. Ignoring whatever coward cell he had, Arthur fought back. He bit the man's hand, making him drop the blade and yell out. As Arthur tripped him up and brought him pinned to the ground with the same defensive movements Ludwig helped him learn years ago, he caught sight of his own blood. It was practically pouring out through his jacket, the red more black than else. Distracted by a second, he missed as the fiend grabbed his weapon not far from their position. He stabbed the blade towards Arthur's neck, but missed due to the shadowed blackness of the alley. Stabbing his shoulder range closest though was enough to cause more rucus, and also let a way for him to escape. The man had other intentions though, getting up and sliding behind the brit. He forced him face down into the pavement, repetively shoving his knife in and out of his side. Arthur tried hard to fight but eventually lost his count at seven and gave up. His breaths and tears and blood were on the ground, and he was watching more join the lot.

"Facedown in the dirt, she says this doesn't hurt, she said i've- i've finally had enough." Alfred sang as he walked down the city street. He suddenly heard a scream, over his obnoxious voice. Running to it's assumed source, Alfred swore he felt it had some nostalgic tinge to it. He knew that scream, but for the life of him, and his sneakers as he sped down the walkway, he couldn't exactly pinpoint who. With the next corner turned, Alfred swore he saw a man run from an alleyway. That same one with an individual, in the most ragged state, trying to exit and stop him. There was only one person Alfred knew who was so pecific on never surendering. Running up to the male, Alfred almost cried. He grabbed Arthur, lifted him up, and moved faster than ever before to the nearest hospital.

"Hang in there dude!"

"A-Al?"

"Hi! I know, wow, im here, but we can be shocked by my heroic antics and praise my good officerly deeds some other time! NOW, HOSPITALLL!"

"Heh, y-you have changed a b-b-bit... I can't-"

"YOU CAN'T WHAT!?"

"I c-c-can't breathe. Asthma, a, and you're suffocating me, b."

"Big words for a guy who just took a few jabs at his pri-... ehh that's a bit too soon. Sorry."

"Shhh, you're fine. I'm fine. What d-doesn't kill you-"

"MAKES YOU A KIRKLAND!"

Thanks for reading... To be continued...:)


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